Conversations June 29, 2010

Posted on by Frank DeMarco

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

5:30 AM. “Sometimes I feel like a motherless child” running through my head.

A dream in which I and many others had gone — and paid — to hear — Carl Jung? Colin Wilson? — speak. I had spoken of it to dad and he was there — several of my family were there, I think. Jung, not Colin. He spoke briefly and then disappeared and the audience waited and realized he wasn’t coming back. I went after him, climbing up into the bleachers to try to see where he had gone. Went around back somewhere. Was told he had gone, and felt quite bitter about it — it wasn’t fair that he should arrive, speak a few sentences and leave. I said, I think, it was just what Colin did, or was Colin’s fault (meaning, for letting himself be over-scheduled).

Went out to find my car covered in snow needing to be dug out (like all the other cars, of course).

What was that all about, pray?

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Conversations June 28, 2010

Posted on by Frank DeMarco

Monday, June 28, 2010

5:40 AM. Indexed the last ten days of May last night, working backwards, having already done all of June. The question of how the information is to be put together was the subject of a dream, I think, but I don’t remember it. One thing that’s clear is that I do need to go along collecting unfollowed thoughts and threads — or maybe just rely on them to do it, given time.

So here we are again. I noticed, transcribing, that yesterday started off to be a discussion of the connection between politics and psychic exploration. We got diverted.

Or maybe not diverted. Maybe what followed was necessary groundwork.

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Conversations June 26, 2010

Posted on by Frank DeMarco

Saturday, June 26, 2010

5:15 AM. Early mornings with the windows all open (as they have been all night to cool the house), my morning is set to the alternating calls of various songbirds, going back and forth. One more feature of the early morning I wouldn’t gladly do without. A simple thing, really.

Okay, here we are, coffee is brewing, I just added Wayne to our Papa list, what’s our topic today? Papa?

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Conversations June 19, 2010

Posted on by Frank DeMarco

Saturday, June 19, 2010

6:50 AM. All right, Papa — or anyone with business for the morning.

Your life is changing — everyone’s life is changing — more so than usually. More so both in the sense of “faster” and in the sense of “more extensive.” This is what you wanted, or why come into a life in these times? But that doesn’t mean that you’re automatically ready for the changes, or again what’s the point of living in these times? If you already know — already live — everything there is to know or to live — what tedium! Instead, what interest, what drama!

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Conversations June 15, 2010

Posted on by Frank DeMarco

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

5:30 AM. Okay. Ready to go. But I don’t know the topic du jour.

One of your friends challenged you to ask us why the attitude we suggested in re the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico didn’t amount to letting people get away with anything and everything.

Yes. That isn’t quite what she said, I think, but it was late for me and I just scanned the message, intending to read it more carefully today. I could go read it, I suppose.

Go ahead, if you wish. The day is young, your coffee is un-drunk and your vision is blurry anyway!

I expected you to say, “oh, don’t bother, we got it the first time.”

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Conversations June 13, 2010

Posted on by Frank DeMarco

Sunday, June 13, 2010

6 AM. All right, boys and girls, here we go again. At least, I’m here if you’re here. Papa, I sort of miss talking to you specifically, but I get that this information is following rules of its own, sort of like a lesson-plan. So, whomever.

One of the difficulties, as you perceive it, is that although the information will be read in easy succession, so that what took you a week to bring forth may be read in one setting, you as you bring it forth cannot remember even the previous day’s information, let alone a week’s worth or the entire picture. But after all, this is only your usual situation in life, living in time-slices, concentrating on each successive stone in the mosaic, unable to sit far enough away to see it in an over-all view. There’s nothing wrong with it; this is how it should be. You do the detail work, we guide the pattern, and at the end you can read the final product (or, in the case of a writer, read and reshape) and perhaps for the first time see what you have been doing as it relates to itself, one piece to another, and as it relates to life.

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Conversations June 12, 2010

Posted on by Frank DeMarco

Saturday, June 12, 2010

6 AM. So, my friends. Between finishing “Schindler’s List” and reading of the first year of the Civil War in Allan Nevins’ masterful work, and preparing my talk for tomorrow — today, now — I had quite a day. But the high point has come to be sitting down at sunrise, more or less, and communicating. If this were to continue for the rest of my life, which I suppose it cannot, I’d be well satisfied.

I am becoming a throwback to the Middle Ages, aren’t I? Someone said that in Christian Europe at that time, it is conceivable that a man might know that he was the last man on earth and know that it is all right, that it is God’s plan. To me, that translates pretty well into your saying, that Rita and I sent out into the world, “All is well. All is always well.” It is a way of being that is totally out of harmony with this world they call modern, and totally in harmony with the world that endures. So I feel, anyway.

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